


The Distant Future

by fadeoutslow



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Robot AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 03:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1372735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadeoutslow/pseuds/fadeoutslow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robots in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Distant Future

Kimi sometimes hears the mechanics joking about him, when they assume he's not listening. It's never spiteful, always affectionate, but still, it unsettles him, makes him feel in need of an adjustment. "He's such a robot," they'll say. "With that voice." And they'll imitate his monotone, laughing amongst themselves.

Kimi will soften his audio receptors, tune the words out, careful to never go too low, always aware and ready. It's not his fault, he knows. His external emotional reactions have always been slightly _off_ , right from the start. He was supposed to be recalled, fixed to seem more _human_ , but his demeanour proved unexpectedly popular, so instead it was enhanced, refined.

It's frustrating sometimes, the way it makes people treat him, the way he's so often misunderstood, but he accepts it, because he accepts everything. It's how he's been programmed.

_Frustrating_ , they'll say back at the factory, when they're running diagnostics, asking him questions, making him describe his 'feelings'. _Hmmm_ , the technicians will murmur, nodding to one another.

He's designed to evolve, he understands, for his code to build upon itself, become more and more complex, turning him into something ever more unique and individual. Something that better resembles a human, but never actually human.

Never independent, never free.

And perhaps everything inside him, everything he 'feels' is nothing but increasingly elegant arrangements of ones and zeros and a simple power source, but Kimi's never certain that makes him so dissimilar to _real_ people. A human brain is, after all, only chemicals and random electrical impulses masquerading as thoughts and emotions.

Not really that different, Kimi thinks. 

He ponders on it when he's powered down over the winter. They never switch him off completely, a total reboot being too difficult and dangerous, so he can't move or speak, but he can see, he can _think_.

The days drag, but Kimi tries to focus, replaying the race data recorded in his system to pass the time, analysing every corner, over and over, scanning the angles and searching for ways to be more efficient, faster.

Sometimes one of the security guards eats his lunch in the room where Kimi's stored, and he'll say _hello_ when he comes in, then _goodbye_ when he leaves. One day he stands in front of Kimi, waving his arms and jumping up and down, trying to get him to react. When the guy finally stops, giving up, he shakes his head, says, "You poor fucker," and then tells Kimi all about his girlfriend, how she's cheating on him but that he's too hung up on her to let go. _Leave her_ , Kimi would like to say, but after that day, the guard never comes back.

Eventually, it's time for testing.

-

And that's the first time Kimi sees him. He _knows_ straight away, of course, it's obvious to him that Nico isn't human. Kimi can't fathom how it's not obvious to everyone else, if he's truthful, because Nico is so pretty he doesn't even seem real. There's something artificial about him, the way he looks, with his perfect hair, perfect smile, but no one else appears to notice.

Nico strolls up to him, says, "Hello."

"Yeah," Kimi replies, "hi."

"Huh," says Nico, regarding Kimi thoughtfully.

"What?" Kimi tries not to snap.

"You really _are_ that grumpy." Nico smiles, enigmatically, and even his _teeth_ are perfect. 

_Lazy design_ , Kimi muses, but he says, "So?"

"Can't you get that adjusted?"

Kimi shrugs. "I'm programmed that way."

" _Why_?" says Nico and he doesn't need to sound _that_ disbelieving about it, Kimi thinks.

"I don't know," he says. "People like it."

"Weird." Nico frowns, a tiny little perfect line forming between his perfect eyes. Kimi already dislikes him, he's decided. "Anyway," Nico says, "we should be friends."

"I don't do friends."

"You should," Nico says. 

"Why?"

"I'll make you look good, make you seem more human." Nico lays his hand on Kimi's arm. "More approachable."

"I don't need to be more approachable," says Kimi, stepping back, out of reach.

"Yeah," Nico says, turning to walk away. "You really should look at getting that adjusted."

"Yeah, fuck off," Kimi says, and Nico looks back at him, smirking, raising his perfect eyebrows in perfect, feigned surprise.

Kimi suddenly feels too warm, and he makes a note to run a thorough scan of his temperature control systems.

-

And Nico may be perfect, but he's also annoyingly persistent and, as it happens, not nearly as insufferable as he first appears, so they do end up being friends. Of a kind, at least. They talk sometimes, anyway.

More than Kimi would like, to start with, but he has to admit that's it _nice_ , not having to constantly monitor what he says, always be in restricted access mode. They can't speak openly, of course, with the risk of being overheard, found out, but they're able to obliquely discuss their current setups, compare notes on a glitch or two.

Today they're in one of the general hospitality areas, Nico sitting with a cold, undrunk cup of coffee in front of him, Kimi across the table, leaning back with his arms folded.

There's a man and woman a few tables away and they're holding hands, laughing. Kimi studies them, seeing how the woman's eyes shine when she meets the man's gaze, and he wonders how that must feel. He looks across at Nico, who's also watching them, a fleetingly wistful expression washing over his features.

"You ever want that?" he asks, turning back to Kimi.

"No," Kimi answers, certain. "Seems like too much pain they go through."

"Maybe it's worth it."

"Maybe," says Kimi. "I don't know."

"So you wouldn't want to be human?"

"That wasn't what I said."

"So you _would_?" Nico says.

"Yes." Kimi glances down at the table, trying to remember that he isn't embarrassed, that this isn't shame, whatever it _feels_ like. "But not for that."

"Why then?"

"I'd just…" They shouldn't be discussing this, Kimi knows, but he goes on. "I'd like to make some of my own decisions."

"Yeah." Nico nods. "Yeah, that would be good." 

They sit in silence a while, watching as the man and woman get up, leave, still holding hands as they walk out of the room.

Kimi looks down at his own hands, placing them palms up on the table, his fingers loosely curled. His skin is pale, and there are calluses at the joints of his knuckles. _Craftsmanship_ , he thinks. They haven't missed anything, not the smallest detail.

"Well," says Nico, "I better be off." He reaches out, suddenly, grabs Kimi's hands, and shakes them a little, smiling.   
And Kimi feels something that could be a power surge, but a quick check tells him that's not possible. 

Nico releases his hands and stands up, leaving his coffee on the table. "Bye," he says.

"Yeah, bye," says Kimi, and it's there again, that curious warmth. 

This time, however, he's fairly certain he knows what it means.

-

"You've been spending some time with the Rosberg unit," they say to him back at the factory, and it's not a question. They know everything he does, everything he sees, hears. It's all available for playback, complete with in-depth data.

"Yes," Kimi answers obediently.

Two technicians are peering inside Kimi's chest while the chief engineer watches on. "We've decided to allow that interaction," someone says from behind him, but Kimi's movement functions are currently disabled, and he can't turn his head to see who it is. "It makes you seem less aloof," they continue, "which is helpful, but we'll be monitoring it closely." 

"I understand," Kimi replies.

"Good," they say. "We need you to be careful."

"I understand," Kimi says, again.

-

Kimi sees Nico in the paddock, walking alone, and he jogs to catch up with him, patting Nico gently on the shoulder, and saying, "Hi."

It's strange, being able to _touch_ someone, not having to do a cost/risk analysis first, calculate the likelihood of it being appropriate or advantageous behaviour. 

"Hey," says Nico, and he gives Kimi a curious look. "You're smiling," he says. "I've never seen you smile."

Kimi assesses his facial area and yes, he can feel it, his lips pulled back from his teeth, the corners of his mouth lifted, and it's the oddest sensation. He looks back at Nico, and the smile seems to broaden, apparently of its own accord.

"Are you actually _happy_?" asks Nico.

"I don't know," says Kimi, because while his current emotional state may be unfamiliar, there would appear to be nothing negative about it. It's a lightness, he thinks, as if something has been lifted off him, a weight removed. And he _likes_ it. "Yeah," he says, surprised at himself, "I might be happy."

Nico grins back at him. "Anyone would think you're a robot," he says.

And Kimi laughs, a short, sharp, almost barking sound that startles himself. He glances around, wary, hoping that no one's heard him, but the paddock is going about its business, as normal, taking no notice. Only Nico is looking at him, bemused.

"God, you're weird," he says, but the tone of affection in the words is easily detected.

"Fuck you," Kimi says, and he can feel it.

He's still smiling.

-

Everything seems easier, smoother right now, even driving, and Kimi's leading today's race, finding the perfect line through every corner, the computations of angles and downforce almost instinctive, effortless. He's studied human athletes and drivers, and he's pretty sure that this is what they call the 'zone'. And it's amazing.

"Safety car," the call comes through over the radio, "Kimi, safety car, slow down."

He obeys immediately, swerving left and right to keep his tyres warm, catching up to the flashing lights of the impossibly sluggish-seeming road car, following carefully behind.

There's obviously been a crash, and Kimi can see the confusion of tangled cars in the distance, coming into focus as he approaches, painfully slow, and it's only when he gets closer that he realizes.

Because one of those cars is _Nico's_ and, as far as Kimi can make out, Nico's still inside.

"What's going on?" he asks over the radio. "Is anyone hurt?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," they say. "Keep the temperature in the tyres, please. Focus."

But he can't, he can't focus, because he doesn't _know_ , he can't be sure whether or not Nico is safe. He replays what he saw, the likely trajectory of the accident based on where the cars stopped, the damage he observed, but he doesn't have enough information to recreate the scenario with any accuracy, and by the time the race restarts, his system is starting to go into crisis mode, unable to cope. He loses his lead, barely holding on to third at the finish, messages flashing in front of his eyes about insufficient power.

He's glitching, he can feel it, snapping in and out of real time, overloading and on the verge of crashing, and they power him down enough that he can get through the podium ceremony, cold and expressionless, struggling to lift the magnum of champagne, shake it, face a neutral mask.

After, he has to be helped back to the garage, where he collapses, the mechanics closing the door, letting him fall to the ground.

"They're worse than the cars, these fucking things," he hears someone say.

"Less reliable, that's for sure."

Kimi shuts down his audio, doesn't listen. 

-

He sees Nico at the next race, his arm in a sling, sitting this one out.

"They couldn't fix you?" Kimi asks, concerned. "Really?"

"It's just for show," Nico says, quietly, making sure no one can hear. "It was a bad enough crash…" He shakes his head. "People would ask questions if I came straight back from that."

"But you're okay?" says Kimi.

"I'm fine," Nico tells him. "You worry too much."

"I'm not programmed to worry," Kimi says, automatically.

"Yeah," says Nico, "right." He looks at Kimi, his face unreadable. "Be careful, won't you?" he says.

"Of course," Kimi replies. "Always."

-

Kimi's next maintenance session at the factory is supposed to be merely a check-up, but they take their time, giving him a thorough going over, testing and retesting all the new installs after the recent disaster.

They're nearly done, Kimi still powered down, when he hears that voice again, calmly authoritative, the source somewhere behind him, out of sight, as always.

"I'm not required to tell you this, Kimi," it says, "but I want you to know: there have been discussions, and it's looking extremely likely that you'll be sitting out next year." There's an edge of anger to the words, disappointment, and it's nothing Kimi doesn't deserve, he knows. "The team aren't happy with your results."

There's a pause, and then it continues. "Also we've installed a proximity block to prevent further interaction with the Rosberg unit."

_No_ , Kimi says to himself, inside, where no one can hear. 

"We think it's for the best," the voice says.

-

The next race, Kimi raises his hand to Nico from across the paddock, and Nico waves back, starts walking towards him.

And it's unnerving, the way it kicks in, Kimi's legs carrying him backwards so fast he has to steady his upper body to stop himself from falling.

Nico sees, and he stops, gestures questioningly.

Kimi only shakes his head, and Nico nods back, understanding. He waves again, turns away.

-

That night, Kimi lies in his bed. He doesn't sleep, obviously, but at races they're required to follow normal human routines, avoid coming to anyone's attention, so he has a hotel room, a bed, luggage. Nothing to suggest he's different to any of the other drivers. Except that he is.

There are only a few races left, and then it will all be over.

He needs to act, before it's too late.

-

He waits, patient and obedient, until the last weekend, until Sunday morning, when he heads into the garage, taking a scalpel from the first aid kit and slipping it into the pocket of his jeans, grabbing the smallest pairs of pliers he can find. He scans the map of the circuit inside his head, then locks himself in the bathroom nearest to Nico's team's hospitality area.

The circuitry is easy to access, fortunately. Kimi slices open the inside of his forearm, cutting from wrist to elbow, closing his eyes as he inserts the pliers, crushing one fine wire, rerouting another, attaching it crudely.

It's a primitive, rudimentary fix, and it won't last long, he knows.

He doesn't have much time.

-

He finds Nico alone in his changing room, sitting on the couch, and he looks up, startled, when Kimi enters.

"Hi," Kimi says.

"How…?" Nico asks, and Kimi holds up his arm. " _Fuck_ ," says Nico, standing up, taking hold of Kimi's hand and examining the damage. "Kimi, you can't…"

"I know," Kimi interrupts, impatient, "I just wanted to say goodbye."

"You didn't have to…" Nico looks at him, helpless. "We'll see each other next year."

"No, we won't."

"What?" says Nico. "Why?"

"I'm on hold next year."

Nico doesn't say anything, and Kimi can feel himself starting to fail, a complete system breakdown imminent, he knows. But there's nothing left to lose, not anymore, so he grabs Nico's arms, pulls him in, and presses their mouths together. 

Kimi doesn't know what to expect, but it's soft, and slightly wet, Nico's tongue sliding over his own as he's backed up against the wall, their bodies close, fitting together as if this was what they made for, the whole purpose of their design. Their mouths open wider, and Nico's making quiet, tiny whining noises, each soft little moan vibrating through Kimi like an echo.

And this must be what _pleasure_ feels like, he thinks, how it's lighting up inside him, molten through his entire system, even the smallest parts _alive_ with it, humming, and he never wants to stop.

But there's a burning smell, and his arm is sparking, his visual receptors shutting down as he panics, stumbling out of the room, only making it out the back entrance into some kind of service area before he gives way completely, crashing, vaguely hearing something break as he falls, hits the concrete, hard.

_Nico_ , is the last thing he thinks, and then there's only darkness, nothingness.

-

The world blinks into focus, and Kimi scans his surroundings, tries to get his bearings. 

It's dark, and he's in a small space, in minimal power mode, unable to move. Something happened, he's sure, something important, but when he tries to access the data, there's nothing there, only a smooth, empty blankness, whatever he needs to remember wiped clean away.

There's a name, he knows, _almost_ there, but he can't quite find it.

But there's time.

He can be patient.

-

He waits.


End file.
